Life With Yami
by DragonSun
Summary: Don't read this. I don't know how this got here. Don't read it! Don't read it, okay? And if you do...just remember that I warned you.
1. Default Chapter

Yami, Life With  
  
Okay, right off the bat: My friend Older Sister Pyro and I are having a sort of review contest. We're going to see who gets the most reviews. ^_^ I have confidence. But, of course, she has a GREAT sense of humor. . .so you might wanna check hers out.  
  
It's Blood Red, a bedtime story by Yours Truly (in other words, Dilandau) based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.  
  
So get reviewin'!  
  
(Just so you know, this roughly page-long interlude where DS's Yami and Hikari argue is not the actual story! I won't mind if you skip to where the actual chapter one starts! Actually, I wouldn't know if you did or not!)  
  
DragonSun's Hikari: Waaah! Don't yell at me so loud, Yami!!!!! WE ARE SHARING THE SAME EARS, DON'T FORGET!!!  
  
DragonSun's Yami: YOU ARE A WEAK, PATHETIC, UN-DEMONIC HIKARI! I CANNOT BELIEVE WE MUST SHARE THE SAME BODY!  
  
Hikari: I can't believe I let myself split my personality. *Holds ears*  
  
Yami: You missed me! Admit it!  
  
Hikari: Uh.no? I was longing for some male company, let's say. *looks at bewildered readers* My dark side is male. Yeah, I know it's strange, but I created him. Jeez. I feel like Dr. Jekyll.  
  
Yami: Grrr!  
  
Hikari: Don't forget, I split us, I can un-split us! Er. . .recombine us, that is!  
  
Yami: GRRRR! BURN! DESTROY! LET ME OUT OF THIS CONSTRICTING FEMALE BODY!!  
  
Hikari: *major sweatdrop* Ooooookay. . . *turns to readers again* At the moment, I do have control.  
  
Yami: They can tell, baka! Just look at the horrible clothing you're wearing!!!!! I DID NOT WANT TO WEAR THE SKIRT!! I, AT LEAST, HAVE A BETTER SENSE OF FASHION THAN YOU DO!!!!!!!!  
  
Hikari: *smiles sweetly. At the moment, she has on very tight jeans, a short, very colorful pleated skirt (in honor of Hitomi), very short black hair (also in honor of Hitomi) under a blue and white ski hat that makes her look like ghetto gone wrong, a red striped tank top, a black T-shirt over this, and a fuzzy PJ shirt with glittery stars and suns all over it, and pink slippers with bows on them that used to belong to her mother, but she stole them, not that you would care. . .)*  
  
Hikari again: Look here, Mister Yami. Isn't short hair enough for you? I must endure the constant agony of being mistaken for a male because of you!  
  
Yami: HALF OF YOU *IS* MALE, DAMMIT!  
  
Hikari: That did *not* come out sounding right. Be nice to the readers, Yami! After all, they're reading and they didn't have to!  
  
Yami: NO! I REFUSE!  
  
Hikari: This is the constant struggle of Celena and Dilly. I'm more for the Merle/Dilly. . .but Merle would NOT make a good Hikari. ^_^ At the moment, however. . .  
  
Disclaimer: We do not own Celena, Dilly, and what other Escaflowne plots/characters that may be used in this silly story. We also do not own the slight Yu-Gi-Oh! Yami/Hikari references, not to mention the constant use of the word 'aibou,' which means partner, but perhaps you already knew that. DS and her two personalities are just stupid. We would also like to say to what scant Allen-fans out there that we strongly dislike Allen *shudder* and are complete supporters of the Allen-bashing situation! So BE WARNED!! Also. . .this contains VERY strong language. . .it's rated pg-13 for a reason, ppl! ^_^ Funny. . .I just turned thirteen. Even funnier. . .I was eleven when I wrote the Rebel King and rated it pg-13. . .(the first story I ever wrote with swear words!) Hikari would also like to add that Yami has stolen her CD player and would like it back. . .  
  
Yami: NEVER!!!!!!!  
  
Hikari: Tsuki no mukou aoi searchlight kasanaru/totsuzen maiorita angel/sou kimi wa dare?/ima unmei no tobira ga hiraku/So just fall in love/munasawagi suru/kono shunkan wo/nogasanai/Don't stop, baby-  
  
Yami: Okay, take it! JUST DON'T SING!!!  
  
Hikari *glowers*: Just what do you have against Wada-san?!  
  
Yami: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! It's YOUR singing I don't like!!!  
  
Chapter I It's a Personal Thing (A/N: The first part of this chapter actually happened with our author. . .only she did it in a more subtle way than perhaps assault. ^_^)  
  
"So, Celena. . .could you please voice your inner thoughts. . .what you're feeling right now. . .what you're going through in your life. . .any difficulties, problems. . .?"  
  
//I'm going to kill her. No, I'm going to burn her. Let me take over, aibou. I'm going to destroy her. Please!//  
  
//No, Dilandau. We can't kill the guidance counselor.//  
  
I can visualize my Yami now. He's sitting inside his mind-room, sulking, his savage red eyes burning with feral hatred. Arms folded. There's a vein popping somewhere near his temple and his fingers are itching to lock around Ms. Bouke's neck. And one of his eyes, probably the right one, is twitching.  
  
At the moment, I am sitting in the guidance office, face to face with Ms. Bouke, who, in my opinion, is either a living version of Cruella de Vil or the devil in the flesh. She's going to marry the tenth grade earth science teacher this summer. I feel sorry for him. Who wouldn't? But they say love is blind. You know what I say? Whatever.  
  
Why am I sitting in the guidance office? Because my Yami took control and threatened the orchestra instructor with extreme bodily harm, and then left me to take the consequences.  
  
//I did not,// he says vaguely. I can tell he's still thinking about death and destruction and whatnot by his dreamy tone of voice.  
  
//You did too, and you know it.// I'm angry enough to be brave. Of all my Yami's offenses, forcing me to threaten my beloved cello teacher was perhaps the most sinister of occurrences. And tragic.  
  
//Did not,// he growls, in this low, very menacing whisper he has. He's trying to intimidate me. He's been trying to intimidate me from day one. Day one. . .exactly when did I get stuck with this guy, again?  
  
Oh, right. When my brother when on an archaeological dig with his history class in Egypt, and brought me back this old relic. Personally, I can't believe why they chose *Allen* to go with him. But back to my pendant.  
  
It's an old ankh on a leather thong. Recently, I've connected the ankh to a chain instead of the thong, to keep my Yami from throwing it out the window and escaping to his glorious and destructive freedom. The world is much safer when he's not on the loose. Allen bought my unusual necklace at a bazaar. No, not a bazaar. A 'bizarre.' Some creepy peddler guy with glowing pale eyes was shoving it at him and wouldn't stop hounding him until he purchased it. Allen thought I'd like it. I can say right now that I certainly didn't know the moment I tried it on, life as I knew it would be completely whirled upside-down.  
  
I came down the next day after my birthday party with the black eye Dilly gave me and told Allen I hit my head on the window pane.  
  
//Did too,// my mental self snaps right back at him. I'm furious. He's ruined my chances at becoming a great musician.  
  
It's a daily battle. We argue over everything. There's only one thing I think we agree about-my older brother Allen needs to get a life. And a haircut.  
  
//Bitch,// mutters my Yami. He's lost this battle, but he wasn't about to go down without a long and tedious fight.  
  
I grab the pendant and give it a very, very hard squeeze, and get the satisfying //ARGGH!!! BITCH!!!// that results.  
  
"Celena?"  
  
Where am I again. . .? Oh, that's right. In the office of the psycho counselor, trying to explain why I grabbed the orchestra instructor by the collar and threatened her with much pain. I give the pendant another angry pinch and hear a howl of indignity. (//DAMMIT, YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!//)  
  
"Uh. . .I'm just feeling very. . .uh. . .frustrated. . ."  
  
Exactly what else was I supposed to say? I have a psychotic pyro for an alternate ego, Ms. Bouke. He's the frustrated one and he wants to get me expelled. Or sent to an asylum for nutcases. Or both.  
  
//No, I want to KILL this bitch! I want to burn, torture, destroy, mutilate, burn, burn, burn, burn-//  
  
//No, Yami.// This time, I clutch the ankh and scrape it with my nails. He knows I have power over him.  
  
A stream of extremely foul Gaean oaths meets my ears. I've only learned what one of them means so far. After that little lesson, I don't even want to know about the rest.  
  
YAMIv.s.HIKARI  
  
It's interesting. My life, that is. My life with Yami. With Dilandau. If you could call it a life. I like to call it the Eternal Battle of Good and Evil, to give it a little dramatic flair.  
  
I'm standing in front of my mirror on a Saturday morning. Apparently the Astons (primarily Mr. Aston and his daughter, Millerna) are coming over for lunch. Allen can't cook. I can't cook. I'm never letting my Yami near fire for as long as I live, whether he can cook or not. So, in reality, the Astons are coming over thinking that they will eat lunch here. They're also thinking that Allen's a great cook-a total lie, of course. You don't want to know the injustices I have to suffer as he tries to figure out how to work the microwave. I can safely call my brother a dumb blond, seeing that I myself am more silver-haired. However, they-meaning the Astons, of course-will be ushered without much courtesy to the nearest restaurant, where Allen will impress them by paying for whatever we eat.  
  
It's a good thing Allen's paying. I have no idea how much Mr. Aston can eat. Judging from his size, I'm guessing it's a lot.  
  
I tried to strangle myself this morning. Better than having to face the meeting the Astons with a psychotic Yami in tow. Dilandau stopped me. He got rid of my makeshift rope and threatened me with total disembodiment if I ever tried to kill myself again.  
  
If I'm going to go down, I'm taking him with me. It's that simple. You hear that, Dilly-pickle?  
  
Right now, my Yami is sitting cross-legged on my bed, staring with the utmost dislike at the icky pink confection that my brother has decided I have to wear to the big lunch. Yami isn't actually there. In other words, if I went to shake him like I've been wanting to lately, my hands would go right through him.  
  
He's right, of course. This disgusting, frilly pink excuse for a casual dress was not my idea. Allen figures it'll help boost the sweet little sister image if I do wear it. I don't have anything against Allen. He's my brother, and I love him very dearly, but-to make me wear *this*? There is definitely some sort of ancient evil happening here. I wonder if my Yami is the cause.  
  
The lunch with the Astons. I'd rather refer to it as exactly that- It. Or, if you will, the lunch date from hell.  
  
//Cursing, are we, aibou?//  
  
I'm ignoring him, taunting silver smirk, red eyes and all. He can't do anything in this ethereal form he's taken on. Of course, there's always the chance he'd solidify to cause some real damage, as in the case of the orchestral disaster, but I'd like to think I have some control over his phase changes.  
  
He's watching me now. I'll admit, his glare scares me. One moment, he wants to kill me. The next moment, he also wants to kill me. And the next moment. . .guess?. . .he again would like to kill me. Luckily, he can't, because if he kills me, he'll die too. I plan to use this as a last defense if it ever comes to that. At the moment, though, it doesn't look like he wants to kill me. It's more of an I'm-going-to-eat-you-alive-if- you-even-come-near-me thing. And then some.  
  
I hold the dress up against my body. I *am* wearing clothing, however. Just because Dilandau is my Yami, doesn't mean I'm about to let him see me naked.  
  
Over my dead body. I just hope he doesn't take me at my word.  
  
Maybe we could run away together, my Yami and I. Be bandits. Go kill people and burn buildings in some remote third-world country, far, far away from this hellhole. They wouldn't suspect sweet, kind little Celena. I'm not exactly the kill and burn type, but I learn quickly. And I'm sure my Yami would be more than happy to teach me.  
  
Shit, shit, shit. Why do I have to wear this again? Oh, that's right. The lunch date from hell. Dilandau, who can hear just about everything I'm thinking, chuckles at my discomfort. Sadistic, maniacal bastard.  
  
I sigh. "Close your eyes."  
  
//No.// He's trying to be difficult. I take the pendant and start scraping my nails over it again. For some reason, this causes Dilandau much, much pain. Another defense. Unless he takes control of my body too.  
  
He snarls, but shuts his eyes very obediently, rubbing his arm where a raw scratch has formed.  
  
It's a quick change. My jeans and heavy blue sweater hit the carpet, and a second later, I'm drowning in pink silk. Or polyester. Or. . .whatever.  
  
I wade through swathes of swishing material into my bathroom. Usually, I don't wear make-up. Today is not a usual day, however. Blue eye shadow. No mascara. My kind always smudges, for some odd reason. No blush. I want to look depressed. Pale and depressed. Somewhat otherworldly. Why don't we go for a punk look? I do have black lipstick somewhere. . .nah. Got to look normal. It's Allen's big day. But you have to wonder. . .exactly how can one look even partially sane in this. . .this *outfit* ?!  
  
Dilandau's still sitting on the bed, laughing at me as I stumble.  
  
"Don't forget, you're going to have to wear this later when I do," I say furiously.  
  
He folds his arms and grumbles.  
  
YAMIv.s.HIKARI  
  
Okay. . .I am now. . .down the stairs. . .  
  
No. . .now I'm going up the stairs again. And I'm marching. . .??? Look. . .my arms are swinging. . .yes, sir, I am indeed marching. . . //Yami, what the hell are you doing?!//  
  
There's no reply. I try to force my left foot to stay on the ground, but it lifts. Ah, he's managed to take control again.  
  
//Damn right, I have,// he says triumphantly. We're at the top of the stairs now. Involuntarily, my right foot lifts and I am propelled to the bathroom, tripping and sliding through pink material, grinding my teeth as Dilandau laughs in my mind.  
  
The pink dress falls to the ground. I yell and make a grab for the pendant, but my arm isn't working. In fact, my hand is locking the door.  
  
//What the--//  
  
Okay. . .now the ribbon is coming out of my hair. It's falling to the ground, too, landing on the pink heap of the dress. I hope to the Sky God Dilandau hasn't yet noticed that we're standing in the bathroom wearing nothing but underclothes. Not only that, but a female's underclothes. He apparently hasn't. Our hand is lifting a tissue and the other is turning the faucet on. I'm watching myself in the mirror as the wet tissue lifts. There goes the blue eye shadow. . .and the lipstick. . .I'm bending down to pick some other clothing up, narrowly avoiding smashing my head on the sink corner. . .  
  
//Yami, I don't want to look like a slut!! Or anything else remarkably slut-like. Whatever your Gaean word for slut is. Stop! Stop!//  
  
He's still not listening. I think I'm dressed again, because we're moving outside of the bathroom, with the dress lying crumpled there like a dying rose. Unless, of course, Dilandau would make me walk around the house stark naked. I'm still grinding my teeth. At least I have control over my teeth.  
  
We're going down the stairs again. . .aren't we. . .? And my hand is on the banister. . .oh, there's Allen.  
  
"Celena?" Allen says, quirking his eyebrow in absolute disbelief. "What in the world are you wearing?!"  
  
Good, I *am* wearing clothing. . .wait. . . .Wearing. . .someone tell me. . .what am I wearing. . .?  
  
I look down. Okay. . .bare feet. We'll have to fix that. Jeans. Very, very, very, very tight jeans. And. . .a stomach baring tank that's. . .red. . .and says. . .uh. . .'F'. . .oh. ..no. . .no, wait, good, it's an 'I'. . .and then 'R'. . .I see. . .FIRE. Okay. So Dilandau's been shopping. Or stealing. At the moment, I figure it doesn't really matter. Oh. . .Uh-oh. . .I suddenly notice the two slashes across the jeans, about two inches lower on either side of where my legs meet the rest of my body. I'm wearing a silver chain, too. And why do I have the sneaking suspicion that my Yami has somehow managed to stick a patch across the back of the jeans that says "Kiss My Ass". . .?  
  
Dilandau won't let me talk. Instead, I feel my mouth opening into a bitter smirk.  
  
"What about the dress I bought you, Celena?" my brother says, reaching out towards me.  
  
"Dammit, I hate pink!" Dilandau howls with my voice. Allen backs away, staring in bewilderment as Dilandau forces me to voice his ranting and my hands form fists. It is now that I realize I am also wearing a belt buckle around my neck above the pendant. No more Yu-Gi-Oh for him. To start rambling in a completely different direction, my Yami admires Kaiba but thinks he ought to be more maniacal, like Yami Malik or Yami Bakura. "I DON'T LIKE PINK! NO PINK!! IT'S THE MOST DISGUST-"  
  
Somehow, I manage to grab the pendant and give it the hardest squeeze I can muster.  
  
"Er. . .sorry. . ." I say weakly. I wonder how strange this must sound to my brother. "I don't know what came over me. . ."  
  
I try to scamper past him, but he grabs my wrist and jerks me back. In a deadly tone of voice I've probably never had him address me in before, he hisses, "You get back into that dress! Understand!?"  
  
Dumbly, I nod as he releases my wrist. It's amazing how Allen can scare me more than the Yami I possess. I'm backing away now. Then I stop-  
  
To my absolute horror, my hands are flying towards Allen's throat.  
  
//I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!// Dilandau is yelling. //SHI NE!!!!!!!!!!!//  
  
//No! Dilly, STOP!!!!//  
  
//I'M GOING TO KILL HIM AND YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!!!!//  
  
He has a point there, I realize, as I try to jerk my hands back and run away, but, to be theatrical, alas, I cannot.  
  
//You can't kill our brother!!// I shriek at him, trying to get a good hold on his 'spirit' arm. Which I obviously can't, seeing that both my own hands have currently locked around my older brother's throat.  
  
//Can I kill him and burn the place?//  
  
//No.//  
  
//Kill him and burn his dead body and steal--//  
  
//NO, Dilandau!//  
  
I can feel him starting to take over again. My hands are starting to tighten and Allen gives an odd choking noise. If I weren't about to strangle him, the situation might have been funny.  
  
It's really very hard to struggle physically with an alternate ego that is somewhat more muscular than you are. Therefore, a mental battle would be in my favor. Abandoning everything, I jump into the darkened corridors of my mind and tackle him before he can do anything to my brother. He falls heavily and his head smashes into the ground.  
  
//WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!//  
  
//You can't kill our brother,// I repeat, breathing very hard after my mad mental dash.  
  
//He touched you. . .// Dilly says angrily.  
  
//He's my brother. He has a right to touch me.//  
  
Dilandau rolls and pins me. I've forgotten just how powerful he is. In either a mental or physical conflict, he would win. In fact, he has won.  
  
I glare at him. I was going to look the end in the eye until it came.  
  
My Yami gets off me and pulls me up into a sitting position. This surprises me. I was expecting to get a fist planted in my face. Is he planning something more painful? Yes, probably.  
  
//Aibou. . .// His voice has sunk to no louder than a very sensuous whisper. He's got the wrist Allen yanked in his hands, which are resting on his legs as he kneels. I wait for my arm to be snapped. Now he's looking at me. I'm drowning in red. Help me. . .I think I'm blushing. . .why am I blushing. . .? Yes, I'm blushing. . .Dilandau. . .  
  
//Itai-Dilandau-// I stammer, trying to pull my wrist away from his iron grip. //You're hurting me!// This is not happening. I'm sitting in a corridor of my mind, with a Yami who's suddenly gone all 'nice' on me. In fact. . .my heart is definitely beating faster. . .I can hear it. . .echoing. . .badum badum badumbadumbadumbadum-  
  
Yami's cupping my face with one hand and pulling me closer to him- warning bells are going off because somehow, just somehow, I don't think it's such a good idea to sit around with your suddenly too cute Yami inside one of your mind-rooms while you're strangling your older brother-  
  
//Eep-Dilly--// I squeak. The only time I've had him this close to me is when he somehow managed to get drunk in solid phase and fainted dead with his head in my lap. I couldn't lift him, so I ended up falling asleep with him. I later dubbed that night the Battle of the Bedsheets. It's a complete tug of war thing with my Yami.  
  
Yami's eyes narrow. I-I-I don't know if he's going to-to break my face-or-or. . .  
  
"Celena!"  
  
I come out of my trance, shocked back into my body, and find that my hands are still around Allen's throat, though they're limp, thank Ra. My head has fallen forward onto his shoulder. Allen removes them and gives me a very hard jerk as I slump over. I have to keep my Yami from jumping on him.  
  
"S-sorry. . .Onii-sama. . ." I look deeply shaken, I know. But it's not because I just tried to strangle my only living relative. Allen gives me a look. In the back of my head, I hear my Yami's savage fuming and tell him to shut up.  
  
Out loud.  
  
. . .Oops?  
  
My brother gives me another look of complete confusion. I think I've just grabbed my head. I also think I've just ruined our cover as the average high-school nerd.  
  
//Dilly?// I say tentatively.  
  
There's no answer, though the undercurrent of rants and swearing continues. He's probably plotting my brother's excruciating death. I'm trying to ignore him. I don't know what language my Yami speaks. I just understand him. I suppose he could speak whatever he wanted to whom ever he chose to speak to. Excuse me. I meant threaten. Or kill.  
  
My feet are cold. The marble beneath my feet is cold, and therefore, my feet are also cold.  
  
//Cold. Cold. Cold. Why the hell is my brother giving me such a weird look? Oh, that's right. I've just tried to strangle him, told the air to shut up, and then grabbed my own head in an attempt to get my Yami to go away.//  
  
//Weakling,// my Yami spits, apparently completely recovered. I'm not recovered. My head is reeling and, for some reason, the room is walking around me in circles. I mumble for it to stop moving.  
  
"Please go put the dress on, Celena," Allen says, watching me with concern.  
  
I turn to go, slipping a little. But at that exact moment, the doorbell rings, signaling the end of the world.  
  
Well? Please review. . .flames are accepted. . .any further suggestions for Allen-bashing would also be appreciated.  
  
Yami: *cackles* BURN!!! *Hikari grabs the flamethrower and gives it back to a crying Dilandau, who immediately brightens and begins to chase Yami around in circles* 


	2. The End of the World

Yami: Hello, we're back!  
  
*audience groans* *Yami growls intimidatingly*  
  
Man from audience: Aw, shuddup ya stupid-  
  
*Yami promptly kills him with his knives*  
  
Yami: Let's try this again. *props two knives so that they are pointing directly at the audience* Hello, we're back!!  
  
*Audience claps and roars and cheers*  
  
Hikari: ^_^ My Yami is SO cool!!!! *is holding up a sign that reads: 'Cheer or We Might Be Forced to Destroy You'  
  
Yami: Much better. When we last left off, we were introduced to stupid little Celena Schezar, who cannot seem to appreciate the true values of fire-  
  
*Hikari grabs Yami around the middle and tosses him into a corner, where Dilandau is waiting, flamethrower in tow. Sounds of combat and yelling are heard, not the mention the acrid smell of burning curtains and clothing and skin*  
  
Hikari: Ahem! When we last left off, we met Celena Schezar, a soft-spoken teenager with two major problems! Her brother and an alter ego!  
  
Yami *muffled*: NO, JUST THE BROTHER! AN ALTER EGO IS A *GOOD* THING!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Dilandau *also muffled*: TAKE THAT, YOU @*!&%~@&*%*!!!!!!!!!!!! AH, YES!! DIE, ALLEN, DIE!!!!!!!!!  
  
Hikari: ^_^ Aw, they're so energetic!!!! ^_^  
  
*Yami and Dilandau pause from fighting* : -_-''''''''  
  
*resume trying to destroy each other*  
  
Hikari: But the biggest problem has now arisen! Celena Schezar must attend a lunch with Mr. Aston and his daughter, Millerna, and Celena's older brother, Allen! *sigh* Such a shame to be related to such a !(#%)(#%!@!!!!!! ^_^ *smiles while uttering harsh profanity*  
  
*Firefighters are being called in, audience hears sirens*  
  
Hikari: As you may be aware by now, this story contains much profanity!!! In fact, we are using words we didn't even know existed!! We are also going to use words such as sh-t, d-mn, f- -k, h-ll, and b-t-ch! ^_^ Simply because our dear Yami, Dilandau, loves to curse!!! And also because we're too lazy to come up with some new Gaean-style cursing!  
  
*the entire stage is now afire. In the distance, Dilandau is laughing and howling for more fire*  
  
Hikari: And, finally-  
  
Dilly: WE DO NOT- *is tackled by Yami*  
  
Yami: OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*  
  
Dilly: ANY YU-GI-OH! IDEAS- *is tackled by Yami*  
  
Yami: OR CONCEPTS- *is tackled by Dilly*  
  
Dilly: AND WE ALSO- *is tackled by Yami*  
  
Yami: DON'T OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*  
  
Dilly: ES- *tackled*  
  
Yami: ESCA- *also tackled*  
  
*Yami and Dilly are both tackling each other so one of them can have the last word of the disclaimer*  
  
Hikari: ^_^ ESCAFLOWNEEEUNGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
*both Yami and Dilly jump on her*  
  
Chapter II The End of the World (A/N: in which the author states her views on the concept of "love" in an attempt at humor)  
  
It's difficult trying to pretend you don't care about people. You don't have to take my word for it. . .or. . .you can. What I'm trying to say is, this isn't a sort of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost-until-it's- gone thing where you really aren't sure you even liked that person or item until it really does vanish. I'm leaning more toward you-know-you-care- about-this-person-but-bury-exactly-what-you're-feeling thing. It's also difficult trying to put this into words, and I'm trying the best I can.  
  
Take my Yami as an example. His feelings are very complex. While he's conscious or sober, as far as I can tell, he's constantly threatening myself and my remaining family members with painful and prolonged death by slow roasting. But when he's sleeping, drunk, or somewhat dazed, he really is sweet. To provide further examples of this, we'll take the time he came back from his little world known as Gaea so worn out and ill he couldn't phase out of his solid form.  
  
I don't know exactly what happened in Gaea, but I knew something *had* happened, because he kept crashing into walls and yelling hoarsely that my bed was dodging. It's a good thing I was the only one home that night, or things might not have ended so well. I was trying to help him collapse onto my bed when he tripped and ended up on top of me, but was too tired to notice. Let's just say I noticed, okay? I noticed a lot.  
  
My Yami, eyes shut, was mumbling his native Gaean into the skin just above my collar bone. His breath was warm and he was. . .well. . .kind of comfortable. . .  
  
"Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . .en dragu a. . .sei lain. . .Vi fa-ru. . .les shutai am. . .en riga-lint. . .Win chent. . .a lotica. . .en vai turi. . .Silota. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . . . .Si katigura. . .neuver. . .floreria. . .for chesti. . .si entina. . .mmm. . .Celena. . ."  
  
I don't think he understood a thing I was screaming at him (a good thing, too, or he'd've killed me), but he did smile very sweetly when I at last managed to stand and went to get him a box of tissues and some tea for his sore throat, and told him to get better or else.  
  
I don't know what my Yami thinks about me. Sometimes I'd rather not know. Sometimes I want to. Like earlier, when I wasn't sure what he was going to do to me. Kill. . .or. . .even scarier. . .k-k-kiss. . .?  
  
And then there's the time he stopped me from killing myself. He shouted at me for a little, but when he was ranting about decapitating me if I ever tried that again, he was blushing and wouldn't look at me.  
  
The warmth of sunlight hits me like a slap to the face. What am I doing near the front door. . .? Why am I hiding behind Allen. . .? And what am I wearing again. . .? Why are my feet bare. . .? Why am I wearing a belt buckle around my neck. . .? Why do I even allow my Yami to view shows like Yu-Gi-Oh!. . .?  
  
Allen opens the door, and the sun is blotted out by an enormous beast.  
  
//AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!// I send up a mental screech that startles a similar yelp from my Yami.  
  
And what the HELL is that?!?!?!?!??!  
  
I'm being crushed. . .! //DILLY!!! TASUKETE!!!!!!// I wail. The flabby but iron vice grip of the clamps tightens and a huge, booming voice ruptures my eardrums with a "Why, Allen! You look like you've shrunk!!!"  
  
//Can't. Breathe!//  
  
//Weakling,// scoffs my Yami, but I hear with some satisfaction that he, too, is slightly short of breath.  
  
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIII!!!!!! HELP!!!!// I cry. //I'm suffocating!!!!//  
  
Air. . .! My arms are pinned to my sides and I. Can't. Breathe!! Must get air. Somehow. . .! Need. . .air. . .!  
  
One steel pole lifts and I force as much beautiful, beautiful oxygen into my flattened lungs as possible, my chest heaving. It's like when astronauts come back to earth and start kissing the ground. That sort of appreciation. Here's a good example of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost- until-it's-gone. In my case, it would be air. In the case of the astronauts, it would be gravity. Or, solid soil beneath their feet.  
  
The pole is pointing at my brother while the other continues to squeeze and the thunder continues.  
  
"Your sister's taller than you are, Allen Schezar!!"  
  
There's a grating giggle from behind, a giggle that grinds through my ears like a jagged saw. Instant headache. As if I haven't already suffered enough.  
  
"Dad, that's Allen!" the owner of the annoying giggles says quickly, gesturing at my brother. "This is his sister, Celena."  
  
Get. The. Hell. OFF. Me!!  
  
The other arm lets go, too. I slump over the coat rack, coughing and trying to breathe. Hesitantly, I rub my sides to assess damage. No broken ribs. Lots of bruises. I look up at the massive robot with the huge arms.  
  
It's Mr. Aston.  
  
And. . .no. . .! It can't be! That. . .that-that thing. . .!  
  
I try to bolt, but Allen catches me by the belt buckle and pulls me back, all the while smiling at-at-at it.  
  
"Hey, Milly," he says, beaming. She smiles at him and continues to giggle in that horrible, ear-splittingly high-pitched tone. I've yanked loose of my brother's grip and am now standing beside him, grinning falsely and nodding at every damned thing the creatures say, secretly wishing to cover my ears with both hands and run as far away as possible. Like the next block. Or city. Or country. Or even continent, if I'm feeling energetic.  
  
//YAMI!!!!//  
  
And do you know what my Yami is doing right now?  
  
He's sleeping.  
  
Gods, I wish I had his discipline.  
  
YAMIv.s.HIKARI  
  
The Astons made no comment about my apparel, though Mr. Aston did give me a disapproving glare.  
  
Mr. Aston's glare is n-o-t-h-i-n-g compared to Dilly's. And if I can ignore Dilly's glaring, I can most certainly ignore his.  
  
I send what I hope is my most glacial frown over the tip of my nose at him.  
  
Allen's trying his best to tell Mr. Aston about this restaurant he's going to be taking us to. We don't have a car. Which means corpulent, pudgy Mr. Aston is going to have to waddle over on the sidewalk along all the little common people.  
  
I smile at this. There are more weirdly dressed people in Tokyo than I. And Mr. Aston will be quite a crowd-parter. So I won't be shoved around as much as usual.  
  
Of course, Dilly usually makes sure that *I'm* the one doing the shoving in a big crowd. Or, he phases in and pushes past for me. He seems to get a sick thrill out of tripping people. Or punching them. Or. . .  
  
I remember the time I was sick with a really bad bug and my Yami stood beside me, patted my back, and brought me water as I puked out what remained of my insides over the ivory toilet bowl in my room. The first time I threw up, it was all over my bed.  
  
And him.  
  
I can't exactly recall what he screamed at me. I just know it was bad. But, all the same, he helped me to the bathroom and waited with me until Allen came home to take me to the hospital.  
  
In his own strange, twisted way, I think my Yami actually cares about me.  
  
//Dilly. . .//  
  
He's still sleeping. While it is more tranquil when my Yami isn't awake and yelling, I kinda miss his voice right now. We could be teasing that fat old-er, excuse me-Mr. Aston-in our thoughts and no one would know but us. And Millerna. Ugh. What a fitting name for such a terrible being. She's got a laugh like a banshee's wail. If she laughs like that, can you imagine how she sounds when she's screaming? The sound cannot be described. (Just so you know; I had to sit next to her on a roller coaster when I was very young. I don't think I've ever recovered.)  
  
I somehow just can't imagine her being my sister-in-law, though this very well may be the case in the near future. Allen's completely taken with her.  
  
What do they say about birds of a feather. . .?  
  
Somehow, I just can't see my brother and Millerna living in the same house. At least, not with me. Or my Yami.  
  
. . .Millerna and my Yami.  
  
. . .together.  
  
. . .and in the same house.  
  
I don't know if I'm going to laugh or cry at this point. But I do know that if my brother and that-that thing get married, I'm finding an apartment and getting myself and my Yami as fast away as I can on two feet. Or on a subway.  
  
I might even leave my Yami here, come to think of it. . .  
  
Nah. No one, not even my Yami, deserves a fate like that.  
  
YAMIv.s.HIKARI  
  
//Yami. . .?// I extend the probe hesitantly and withdraw it hastily when there is no reply. The last thing I need is a cranky Yami hounding me about disturbing his so-called 'beauty sleep.'  
  
If I wanted to, I could see his dreams. I wonder if he looks at mine. . .? I guess it doesn't matter. I don't dream about anything that would embarrass me. I've always speculated about what my Yami dreams of. I mean, what would a one thousand plus ancient evil spirit from another dimensional plane dream of? Nothing I, as a mere mortal, could probably ever even begin the fathom.  
  
Poor Dilly. Sometimes he has nightmares that wake me up. I can't see them, but I can feel his anger, his hurt. . .and sometimes, his fear. Those dreams are usually a blur of red, with sounds of battle, and I can hear Dilandau every now and then, yelling at the soldiers under his command.  
  
". . .Chesta!!! Where the hell is my wine?!? Get over here!!!"  
  
The vengeful shout tears through my mind and for a moment, all I can see is red, and the thrill of the hunt carries through in his heightened emotional state.  
  
Dilandau must be having bad dreams again. . .  
  
//Dilly. . .//  
  
"SHI NE!!!!!" Extreme hatred.  
  
". . .Chesta. . .? Dalet. . .? Miguel. . .? Doko da. . .?" Confusion. Sadness. Something he can't seem to comprehend has just happened to his soldiers. . .and he's searching for them. . .there is much pain burrowed here. . .shadows looming and the blood is still falling, but he isn't finding joy in it anymore. . .he wants it to stop so he can find them. . .  
  
//Dilly. . .please wake up. . .//  
  
Too many raw emotions are flooding at once.  
  
". . .Um. . .Onii-sama. . .I'm not feeling very hungry," I mumble, standing up in my chair. I suddenly realize we've already entered the restaurant while I was dreaming along with my Yami. "Is it alright if I wait outside? Please?"  
  
"Cele-" he begins, but he takes one look at me and nods. "I'll save you something to eat, okay?" he says. Maybe he wants his gang member-like sister as far away from his future fiancee, or maybe he's worried for me. I don't care. I just want to get as far away as I can.  
  
You know. Trying to save the world is difficult when you have an evil alter ego in tow. But that's not the point. I'm not trying to save the world. Not yet.  
  
There's a children's playground just across the busy intersection. I'm sitting down on a swing before I understand where I am. Slowly, I push myself back and forth on hot pavement with my sandals.  
  
//Dilly. . .I can't stand to see you like this. . .//  
  
I guess it's my part to care about my Yami. The gentle Hikari, all that. I'm supposed to be sweet and thoughtful, kind, etc. Even if it is to the more evil half that possesses part of my mind.  
  
The swing picks up speed, and soon, my feet are off the ground and cool spring air is braiding itself through my hair like an invisible ribbon of comfort.  
  
Now all I need is Dilandau's arm wrapped around me. . .???  
  
. . .now where did that thought come from?. . .  
  
I look at my feet, blushing.  
  
I can see us sitting on a large blue swing together; I'm holding the right chain and Dilandau has the left one, and his right arm is resting comfortably on my shoulder. . .and he's playing with my hair, twisting it in silver bunches around his fingers. . .  
  
I open my eyes with some surprise. I hadn't realized I had closed them while dreaming these fanciful daydreams. My Yami would never wrap his arm around me unless he really was carrying out his threats of strangulation. As I open them, I notice a young couple nearby. Talk about conveniently there.  
  
I can't see their faces, but I do notice that they do not look at each other while they shyly hold hands, and are instead staring ahead. The boy has black hair and the girl brown, and their short hair flutters softly in the wind, meshing together. They look like they've just gotten out of a school program; both are dressed in navy blue uniforms. As I watch, the boy tightens his grip on the girl's hand and she, in turn, leans her head on his shoulder. (A/N: Van and Hitomi!!! Awww!!!!! ^_^)  
  
I've never actually understood what people meant by 'they fit together.' I don't think I ever will. But this couple walking across the pathway in the park-I think they meet that sort of description as 'fitting together.' Because they're perfect for each other, and both look content, safe.  
  
People don't understand what love really is. They can compare it to ownership-phrases such as 'Be Mine,' 'Yours forever,' etc.-or spring, and candy, and pretty but perishable things like flowers-'Our love blossoms'- but I would like to think of it as a sort of agreement and a mutual feeling of being accepted, a love that lasts forever, but no one tries to own the other. Because, in reality, what exactly is love? An idea created, molded, shaped by the idiots who try to market Valentine's Day products? I believe this is what the idea of love has become, a mere commercial for chocolates, diamonds, flowers, and the traditional markers of affection.  
  
I mean, if love can be eaten like chocolates, who says it will last? And diamonds. A man may admire the cold, beautiful features of a diamond, but he will never love it. Flowers are vibrant while they last. But then they will wither and be thrown away. Do you truly wish to compare your love to something that will wilt and be discarded?  
  
Love should be like the ocean, infinite, soft, and deep. Wrapping about you for all eternity, cushioning and protecting. There will be tough times, like a raging storm over the sea and high waves, but then the calm always follows in tranquil sea salt breezes. Oceans are infinite. Well, I'm sure that eventually even the oceans vanish, but you get what I'm trying to say. Right?  
  
I think we're all in love with the concept of being in love. If you will. . .in love with love.  
  
To be frank, the sole purpose of humans mating is to reproduce to ensure that they do not die out. Do animals mate for love, or for survival?  
  
//YAMI! WAKE UP!!!// this time I jump into his mind-room and haul him off his 'bed.' He looks so innocent when he's sleeping, but I do this with no reluctance. I suppose everyone looks innocent when they sleep, even evil pyromaniacs from other dimensions who have to kill at least twenty people before breakfast or they won't be satisfied for the rest of the day.  
  
//What the hell-! DAMMIT!!!!! I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!!!!// he looks around wildly, and the notices me. I see, with much amusement, how his hair is sticking up.  
  
//Oh. It's you.// He curls up and crosses his arms over his knees, paying no more attention to me. I can't see his eyes. For some reason, this makes him seem more lonely than before.  
  
//So. . .did you dream?// I say, sitting down beside him. Usually a comment like "Oh. It's (insert insignificant and little) you." would tick me off, but. . .have I mentioned that my life is not usual?  
  
//Why the hell would you care?// he snaps, and still won't look at me. His fingers tighten their grip around his knees. He knows I've been listening in. I think he's embarrassed, though I can't be sure.  
  
//I don't know, Dilly.//  
  
There's a silence. My mind wanders back to the couple in the park.  
  
//Aibou. . .// he says quietly, finally looking up, //Do you envy them?//  
  
//Huh?// It's my turn to stop watching him and stare, flustered, at my hands. I'd forgotten he could hear everything I thought. //Wh-what makes you say that?//  
  
This is one of the rare moments that my Yami is actually bordering on kind and considerate, but I am really too chagrined to take that much notice. In fact, it would be much better if the evil, evil Dilly returned. You know-the I-love-burning-and-death-and-more-burning-and-I-hate-anything- good kind of evil Dilandau. If he teased me, at least I could return shrapnel. But he's asking. Quietly. Seriously. Calmly, believe it or not.  
  
//Stupid mortal,// he mutters, turning away again. I sag with relief, but only for a moment, because he turns back. //Aibou-I-//  
  
He's blushing furiously. That's almost funny. My Yami. Dilandau. Blushing. It's almost unreal, in fact.  
  
//Yes?//  
  
//Never mind.//  
  
//How many people have you killed, Dilly?// I say, to change the subject and ease the discomforted pause that hangs between us.  
  
//Thousands,// he says offhandedly, wrinkling his brow. His mind is still somewhere else.  
  
//Huh.// There isn't much I can say to this, having never killed anyone before in my life. I don't like it when people talk about death like it's nothing. Death isn't nothing. A life has been snuffed out. As for my Yami. . .I think he kills for sheer fun, or maybe because he's bored.  
  
//I don't know, aibou. Maybe things will change for you. When you. . .get a. . .get a boyfriend or whatever you mortals call them. . .if he hurts you. . .I'll have an excuse the kill him.//  
  
//Dilly. . .people can get in trouble for murdering other people, you know. It's not like where you're from.// I reach for his hand, but when I touch his skin he flinches and pulls away.  
  
//Oh?// he seems mildly interested. //How?//  
  
//For starters, if they catch you, you could be executed.//  
  
//The key word in that sentence is 'if,' aibou.//  
  
//Yes-but still-uh-Dilly-// I stop talking as I notice him gazing intently at me. . .  
  
"ITAI!!" I yell, suddenly kissing the pavement. I pick myself off the ground with another equally loud 'ouch.' Apparently, while I was conversing with my Yami, my hands slipped from the swing and I fell off. Not abnormal. In fact, quite standard. My hands are scraped and one scratch is bleeding a bit, and the cuts start to sting as the air and sweat hits them.  
  
I notice some parents giving me evil glares. I give them the best death glare impression I have, but they've already gone back to their stupid little conversations. I suppose that a lunatic is insignificant in their busy worlds. Dilandau is howling with laughter, which isn't helping at all.  
  
//Fuck you, Dilandau,// I say, surprised at my own daring.  
  
//Ow, that hurt,// he says, obviously unaffected, //straight to the heart.//  
  
I decide to go back to the restaurant. I've nothing to lose. In the back of my head, Dilandau is still humming his song.  
  
//Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .//  
  
Yami: Well. . .? PULEEEEEEAAAAZE REVIEW!!!!! *growls* Or we'll COME AFTER YOU! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!  
  
Dilandau: It's BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Not MWA! BWA! LIKE BWAH! (Behwah- hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!!!)  
  
Yami: Next time, on chapt 3! Celena Schezar contemplates her relationship with her Yami as situations worsen-  
  
*Dilandau pounces on him* Dilly: Meaning that she has to go to the mall with Millerna-san WITH her insane Yami-  
  
Yami *after knocking Dilly out of the way* : and, basically, ALL HELL'S GONNA BREAK LOOSE!! MWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!  
  
Dilly: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air again* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA *stops for air* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-and so on.  
  
Hikari: Until Chapter Three!! Buh-bai!! *waves cheerfully* ^_^  
  
PS: My friends Older Sister Pyro and Little Brother Pyro are writing a story that's called something around "Dilandau's Bedtime Tales." Ya might wanna check it out when it comes out!!! ^_^  
  
Which style do you like better?  
  
A) CLAMP  
  
B) Satoshi Urushihara  
  
DBZ  
  
Other  
  
Your own  
  
F) And finally, everyone's favorite. . .yes, he's back! Let's give a big round of applause for YODA, Y-O-D-A, YODA!!!!  
  
*Hikari can be heard singing*  
  
Hikari: Lola, l-o-l-a Lola. . . 


	3. Mirror

Chapter III Mirror  
  
Wow. . .apologies about how late this chapter was. . .but I had this monster exam and a paper due, and, being the procrastinater that I am. . .  
  
Thank you:  
  
dragontiger: Wow. . .that IS really strange. . .! ^_^ I guess you've got the soundtrack. . .? Unfair!  
  
geniusgirl: . . .really? You thought so? *squeals* Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!  
  
Neko-Metallium: ^_^ I'm pleased. But. . .you should know it was an attempt at reverse psychology. Don't strangle me! Please!!  
  
Hello. . .I'm back!! Sorry 4 the delay. . .we had exams and papers due! I'm SO glad 8th grade is nearly over!!  
  
Hikari again: Yes, it is I, the eccentric and VERY crazy DragonSun!!!  
  
Yami: She likes to promote this image. It keeps the real psychos away from her.  
  
DS: *deliberate and twitching stare* Then how come you aren't goin' anywhere, buster!?  
  
Yami: *starry-eyed* Wow. . .thanks!  
  
DS: I managed to re-combine myself. . .this stupid thing *gestures at Yami* keeps coming back, though. And now for the DISCLAIMER: I don't own escaflowne. . .ahh. . .ahh. . .ahhhchooo!!!! Stupid recurring dreams about snow. . . ^_^ *tired smile* Ah, yes. . . strange dreams about wrestling cute anime boys in snow. They always win. Bah, I'm so weak.  
  
On to chapter threeeeeeechoo! I *snuffle* guess. . .*sniff*  
  
Chapter III Mirror, Mirror (A/N: No, this does not happen to me. Not yet.)  
  
You know when you wake up sometimes, it doesn't feel like you're really there? So you get in front of the mirror and go "Wow" because you didn't expect to see your ugly mug staring back at you, right? And then you give yourself a pinch, just to check if you're still dreaming or not. Sound slightly familiar? I don't blame you if it doesn't.  
  
This sort of thing happens to me often. I've generally given up pinching myself because I'm so numb I don't feel it. A slight squeeze to the pendant and the irate howl of a disturbed Yami proves that I'm still physically living in this dimensional plain-physically. I don't have a clue where my mind has gone.  
  
I got up like that this morning. Yami, of course, blew up into a louder string of oaths than usual, but maybe he didn't get enough sleep last night. He and his Gaean buddies were throwing a loud bash in the corner of my mind. It's safe to say I didn't get enough sleep last night, either. You even have a clue of how difficult it is to sleep when you can clearly hear almost everything they're yelling and laughing about? Not just the volume of it, too. The content of their in-ter-est-ing conversations is definitely in-ter-est-ing enough to keep anyone awake for five or six hours.  
  
I don't mind that. It's almost fun to listen in, because they can't do anything about it. Hell, if I could do something about it, I would. It's been long enough since I got a good night's rest. The only thing I mind is when Dilly refers to me with some very abusive terms. At that point I give the pendant a squeeze. It's also funny when he yells in pain, because his buddies all stop laughing and talking and stare at him, and then there's a dead silence while he tries to explain that I don't like being called so-and-so. Most of these terms are more rude than the F-word you see me write so often.  
  
I'm not known for having these problems. I'm sweet Celena Schezar, A student, thoughtful, quiet. No, I am not a pansy-picking little Girl Scout. Mention those terms to my face and they'll never find your body. And if you're bigger than I am, I'll get my Yami to kill you. Either way, it all works out. For me, I mean. Maybe not for you. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Celena Schezar is taking a stand, cursing, and perhaps even being violent.  
  
I was hoping today Yami wouldn't howl. Then I would still be dreaming. Because today is truly the end of the world. No, the universe.  
  
I have to go to the mall.  
  
To hang out with. . .with. . .Millerna.  
  
And go shopping. Do "Girl" things. Like talking about boys. Who's cute. Who's popular. Who still plays with Barbies. The big Picture. Allen. My crushes. Marriage. Proposal. Engagement. And God forbid. . .children.  
  
Yami loves this. He loves to see me suffering. Bastard. He won't be laughing so hard after an afternoon with this banshee. He'll be cursing. Screaming. Begging for release from torture.  
  
Yeah. That sort of thing. Not to mention I have an exam next week and also I need to apologize to the orchestra instructor and find some way to salvage my position in the orchestra. And find a way not to be expelled. All without Allen knowing.  
  
It's all your stupid fault, Yami.  
  
//I'm very sorry.// He doesn't mean a word of it. But I suppose that's obvious. To anyone. After all, Yami is naturally sarcastic and deep-down cynical, and no, you can't push forward the image that he's a true "Nature-Lover" at heart, because he just isn't. He likes to burn things, torture things, and watch anything living die. Exactly how morbid is that?  
  
When Dilly gets depressed it's another story. He just mopes around in his little blue mood, doing nothing, saying nothing. Doesn't sulk, doesn't yell, doesn't complain. Doesn't scream for more fire and for things to burn. You really have to be depressed if you're a pyro, true blue (or red) and never fail, and you don't even want to think about or play with fire. Or burn someone.  
  
I never could understand evil alter egos entrapped in pendants from Egypt.  
  
III  
  
Allen was going to drive me to the mall-to look after me until she came, he said, but I know it was really because he wanted to have a little snuggle with Milly-hime until he had to leave-but I told him it was okay, and I took the subway instead. We would go to the arcade afterward. Then I would go home.  
  
In one piece.  
  
Alive.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
Remember that couple in the park? I've been thinking a lot about them. Dilly's been interrupting, of course. Now he's starting to tease. I can return fire, of course. I'm not as weak and defenseless as you may have thought. I have taken lessons in karate. I can flip people. But that's about it. . .  
  
Now that I've thought about them for a long time, I'm starting to realize just who they were. I don't see these people a lot, but I looked in an old year book and found them.  
  
Van and Hitomi. Cute, huh? We'd always said they'd end up together somehow. When we were younger-when Van lived in downtown Fanelia and came up to visit every now and then. Hitomi had a crush on Allen, and Allen liked Hitomi a bit, but in the end Van won her over. I like Van. I think he's smart. And not bad-looking. It's almost too bad he's taken. But. . .Hitomi and Van. . .go together. Like. . .uh. . .peanut butter and jelly.  
  
//That the best example you can come up with, aibou?// Dilly taunts. //Honestly, I was expecting better from you. . .//  
  
A moment later, his angry scream is resounding through my mind.  
  
//WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, YOU STUPID BITCH!?!??!//  
  
//Language, language. . .// I chide. Dilandau can't stand Van. Oh-I forgot to mention that both Hitomi and Van know about my. . .er. . ."problem." I think Dilly's jealous.  
  
As revenge however, Dilly had a bit of a hand in my attire for the day. He'd stolen a shirt from somewhere that said "I used to be schizophrenic, but we're okay now."  
  
I had to laugh at that. People don't know how true it really is.  
  
III  
  
To illustrate my point about how being near Millerna is torturous- let's give this example. She flirts with absolutely every single damn guy in sight. Even the really old people. Gods. And then when they're getting all excited that this great-looking blonde bombshell wants to go out with them, she says, "It's just too bad that I'm already taken!"  
  
I can't stand it. Allen doesn't mind, of course. I don't mind that part, either-it's after she's done that she points to me and says "but Celena's single, isn't she cute?" And then I'll have seventy-year-olds looking at me and drooling.  
  
It's sickening.  
  
You've got to wonder exactly what the world's come to. Evil alter egos in pendants and lewd prehistoric people who leer at fifteen-year-olds.  
  
One has to admit, however-Millerna does have talent. Who else would be able to send senile oldies salivating after her? Not me. Not Hitomi. And definitely not Dilandau. Well. . .old people give me the creeps. Hitomi's not a slut. And Dilandau. . .  
  
//I don't know about that. . .// Dilly chuckles-making me wonder, exactly who did Dilly dig?  
  
//No one you'd be able to understand, oh dearest aibou,// he adds condescendingly.  
  
//I suppose you don't like blondes?// I say, in both questioning and pleading tones.  
  
//That, aibou, is for me to know and for you to never find out,// Yami says. He's grinning at me. Grrr.  
  
Yami grins wider and sends a ferocious roar at me. I cover my ears and yelp, "Dammit, Yami!!"  
  
And of course, I shout this aloud for the entire world to hear. After all, if I did everything right, would this story be interesting? No!  
  
And all the stupid people on the stupid subway turn and look at me. Dilandau cackles with glee. I put my hand up to my left ear like I'm talking into a phone.  
  
"No, Yami, I said I didn't want white roses!"  
  
They're still staring. So that explanation isn't good enough for them?  
  
"What?! You what?! The cops are after you!? No, Yami. I'm not going to bail you out this time. Look, will you listen to me!? I told you before that if you robbed another flower shop I wasn't going to help you!! No, I don't care if you forgot your wallet!! Yami, that's no excuse to rob the damned shop!!! No, not even if you love me!!! I'm freakin' allergic!!!!"  
  
Satisfied, they all go back to their own little lives.  
  
//Very clever,// Dilandau murmurs admiringly.  
  
//It's all your fault, you know?!// I shoot back with much vengeance. And the pendant gets a very nasty pinch, of course.  
  
He yells in pained surprise. Like he actually thought I wasn't going to do it.  
  
Sucker. I'm not as weak or timid as he thinks.  
  
//Yeah, right.//  
  
And for that little interlude, he gets another pinch. But by now I'm feeling sorry for him, so I stop.  
  
//Weakling,// he whispers, but he's being careful. . .  
  
III  
  
Ah, fresh air. I look out the window at the sidewalk two stories below me. Why don't we jump. . .?  
  
//No, aibou,// Dilandau says forcefully. He jerks me backwards with his mind and I'm frozen momentarily as he starts his lecture.  
  
Only he doesn't lecture.  
  
//If you died, aibou, there wouldn't be much left for me to do,// he says calmly. My Yami. Calmly. Usually, those two words never come near each other in a sentence. In fact, calmly + Dilly = Screaming Celena chasing her Yami around with a frying pan. //It's my duty to keep you from destroying us. Think of it as a double-sided self-preservation act. Besides,// he adds, with a more Dilly-like malicious chuckle, //it wouldn't be half as fun teasing you if you died, ne, aibou?//  
  
He has my hands in his while he's talking to me. And holding them very gently.  
  
Yami. Gently. Uh-uh. No can do.  
  
I'm suddenly struck by how many times I've ended up like this with Yami in the past few weeks. First, when he was drunk. Second, the dreaded lunch. Third, the playground. And now. . .  
  
At the mall.  
  
//Yami. . .please. . .//  
  
//Huh?// he looks away like he'd been burned-ironic, but that's exactly how he did it. Like he'd been burned. He drops my hands a moment later, after he realizes he's still holding them.  
  
//Uh. . .never mind.//  
  
Dilly cackles just then, making a quick, quick recovery. Even I'm surprised at the rate he can swap masks and emotions.  
  
//So, then,// he says, //when I want you to die, I'll do it myself. Got it?//  
  
//No robbing flowershops.//  
  
He pouts. //Can I burn the flowershops?//  
  
//No.//  
  
//Steal all the flowers and then burn them?//  
  
//No.//  
  
//Kill everyone and then--//  
  
//I said no, Yami.//  
  
"HEY!!! CELENA!!! ANYBODY IN THERE!?!?!?"  
  
Ye Gods. She's found me. I had been hiding behind a rack of men's leather jackets-which Dilly had threatened to burn, but that was a while ago. No, this can't be happening. Ye Gods, what lungs, what voice. . .!  
  
Millerna in all her smiling fashion and shrill giggles. The Godzilla of my nightmares. Oh god. Oh god, oh god. I do my best to grin and say, in a strangled sort of voice. . .  
  
"Hi, Milly!! What sort of outfit have you found now?!"  
  
Dilandau sniggers. I squeeze the pendant and continue smiling brightly, even though my grin is starting to fade. I make no effort to keep it there, and Dilly's sour yowl isn't helping at all.  
  
She holds up pink suit that's barely skimpy enough to cover anything. I gulp.  
  
"Y-you w-want m-m-me to p-p-put th-that on?" I quaver, pointing at it with a shaking finger.  
  
"No, silly girl. I'm going to put it on. You're going to wear this." With her other hand, she yanks out a thick blue belt of some sort. Which sounds okay, until I realize that it isn't a belt, but a microscopic mini-skirt.  
  
I can't take it anymore-I bolt. It's the skirt or my life-I'll take my life, no matter how twisted. Gods help me. Help! Run or die of humiliation.  
  
"No, wait!" she grabs my arm. Yami sends out an indignant howl of rage. It takes an effort for me to bring myself to stop him. I mean. . .for once, I don't care if he attacks Millerna. Yami can't stand it if anyone hurts me. It's kind of sweet, if not a sort of attractive factor. But it gets annoying sometimes. Well. . .he can't stand it if anyone *else* hurts me. If *he* hurts me, in his definition, it's funny.  
  
"Heh," I laugh nervously. Gods, don't tell me I actually have to get into that thing.  
  
"I brought someone that you should meet! You know-I thought that maybe you might want a-um-well-please, Celena, just put it on!!"  
  
"Can I pick my own shirt, then?" I ask, in a desperate attempt to ensure the covering of my derrière.  
  
"Sure," she says, waving around at least sixteen twenty dollar bills. Mr. Aston is loaded. As a result, his daughters are also loaded. It's logical, ne?  
  
I run to the Yu-Gi-Oh! section of the store and snatch up the largest size I can find. Thank the gods. It goes to mid-thigh and makes up for the almost non-existent miniskirt. Millerna gives it a look of utmost disgust.  
  
"Celena, they won't be able to see your legs!"  
  
"That's the point," I mutter, sending her the ugliest of death-glares when her back is turned. Thank you, Gundam Wing.  
  
"See, that one over there is much better!" she gestures at midriff revealing tank top-also pink.  
  
"I get cold easily," I say quickly, searching for excuses. "Uh. . .you wouldn't want me blue in the face, now would you?"  
  
"It would be an interesting effect!" she sulks, but pays for the miniskirt and shirt, and her own tiny suit.  
  
"Could I ask who we're meeting?"  
  
"Just a few friends," she says. But she gives me an odd look, and she said it much too quickly. . .  
  
Dilandau seems to have gone to sleep again. He needs a lot of sleep, and a hell of a lot of sugar to keep his usual hyperactive self alive. He sleeps light, though. Once again-thank the gods. I think.  
  
"Uh. . ."  
  
Once inside the bathrooms, Millerna lets me use her nail-file to sand the tags down until they break. Grumbling mentally as I file the plastic, I listen to Dilandau's unlikely but peaceful silence. Too soon the line snaps. Too soon I pull the overlarge shirt over my head, blessing its hugeness. Too soon I yank on the little mini.  
  
Too soon the stall door opens.  
  
She claps her hands. "Oh, you look great!! Hitch that shirt up a bit, okay? We can't even see the skirt!"  
  
//It doesn't deserve to be called a skirt, dammit.//  
  
More silence from the Yami side. Oh well. Not like he'd be enjoying this. But I'd be enjoying seeing him yelling.  
  
Smirk time. "So. . .who are we meeting, again?"  
  
Millerna begins babbling. "Uh, Celena, it's a friend of mine we're meeting, uh, his name is Ataru and he's really very cute and I'm sure you'd like him because I thought you might and after all Allen said it was okay and then maybe you two would like each other and then well since we're going to go and see him and then Allen-"  
  
"Huh?" I say blankly, my face wiped like a recently cleaned plate.  
  
"-Oh, Celena," she says, waving her hands helplessly through the constraining pink jumpsuit, "Allen and I found you a fiancé!!"  
  
Oh. Dear. God. In. Heaven!  
  
"WHAT?!!!?" I explode.  
  
Slowly, the shock settles and my mind unsticks itself.  
  
"You. . .uh. . .got me a fiancé?" I say, in tones too calm to be good, even for me. "As in. . .arranged marriage sort of thing?"  
  
"Celena. . .Allen and I are probably going to get married once we graduate from college. . ."  
  
". . .And you wanted me out of the way."  
  
"Sort of."  
  
She drags me out of the bathroom as I wonder if screaming will help to complicate matters further.  
  
There're two people waiting inside the video arcade-which is where Millerna drags me, by the way. A tall-uh, let's say--*very* well built woman waiting with a delicate boy who looks around thirteen.  
  
He doesn't speak, instead, stares at me with these HUGE, limpid, cow- like eyes. I mean HUGE eyes.  
  
"God. . ."  
  
"What's that?" the woman demands aggressively. She's running an eye over my strange attire and giving me what I would deem to be her sinister version of The Evil Eye. Not my fault. Blame it on my brother's slutty girl-friend. This woman has piggy little eyes, unlike her son- -hard and cold an somewhat cheap. Like she picked them up off a garage sale after beating down their owner price by price- -perhaps literally. I wonder how much her parents had to pay her husband to marry her? I notice she's wearing too much makeup. And someone forgot their shoes in the bathroom. . .  
  
Me.  
  
We sit down at a booth and order some French fries. Millerna is happily humming 'Itsy-Bitsy-Spider' to the boy, who looks exactly how I feel right now- -  
  
Completely freaked out.  
  
"Hello, Miss. . .and your brother. . ."  
  
"Wearvolphe," she answers, obviously pleased I "mistook" her for a Miss. "Irmgard Wearvolphe. And this is my son, Ataru Wearvolphe."  
  
And I thought Mr. Aston was Satan.  
  
III  
  
So Yami snores while I don't even try to pretend I like this kid Ataru. Who's actually nineteen, by the way. He's just small for his age.  
  
Whatever.  
  
This is seriously a violation of 1st amendment rights. But then- -I remember- -this story isn't set in America. It's in Japan, and Allen is technically my legal guardian.  
  
Damn.  
  
//YAMI!!!!//  
  
No answer.  
  
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!//  
  
Still no answer.  
  
I think about the time Dilandau tripped and landed on top of me. I thought his song was cute. And, as I said before, he was comfy. When he woke up with his head in my lap, all he did was smile this lopsided, goofy smile and bat, much like a little kitten with fire amber eyes, at the pendant.  
  
He's like a kitten in a lot of ways, my Yami. While he doesn't look it, he can be very gentle with things. In fact- -  
  
". . .so. . .what do you think?"  
  
And Mrs. Wearvolphe has been relating how we're going to get married. Not me with her, mind. Her son and me. He's just staring at me with a sort of liquid happiness.  
  
I stare back with a sort of blank I'm-not-really-here-plus-I'm-mental- and-have-an-evil-alter-ego-who-wants-to-destroy-the-world-ness.  
  
"I. . .I. . ." frantic, I look around for some sort of savior. This is the god damn twenty-first century!! People. Don't. Have. Arranged. Marriages!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Ataru gives me this simpering I-love-you smile. And his cow-eyes are still bright and just WAY too big for it to be right. I even think he has mascara on, come to think of it. I mean. . .no one's eyelashes can naturally be that thick. Fake eyelashes, maybe?  
  
Oh, god. Why am I thinking of everything else but what's important!? He blinks and the fake/real/I'm not sure eyelashes move up and down, fluttering happily as he clasps his hands.  
  
I don't marry the same gender. I just want to make it clear that I am one hundred percent straight. So. . .this "marriage"- -not happening.  
  
"Well. . .? You'll be married as soon as Ataru can finish college and you graduate from high school."  
  
No, no. You've got it all wrong. I was going to go to music school and become a cellist. Sorry, no marriage for me, thanks.  
  
"I- -I- -" I stammer.  
  
//FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YAMI, WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!//  
  
"Aw, she's blown away!" Millerna says stupidly, grinning. Mentally, I begin cursing Yami with all that I have. When I'm done with that, I go on elaborating quite colorfully what I'm going to do to him later.  
  
"So, it's settled, then?" Mrs. Wearvolphe says triumphantly, smiling evilly at me. I suppose a corpulent soul such as herself longed to have a slave to carry out her every whim.  
  
Sorry. . .  
  
Somehow I find my voice. It's all so sudden. After all. . .a moment ago I had not been engaged to a nineteen year-old with thirteen-year-old proportions!  
  
"No!"  
  
Dangerous silence as Mrs. Wearvolphe bears her fangs and growls, "What did you just say?"  
  
"I- -uh- -I- -I said. . .uh- -I s-s-said n-no!! I- -uh- -can't- -get married now!"  
  
Oh, great. Tough ol' Celena's gone all wimpy and stuttering.  
  
"Why not?" her fat red lipstick smile becomes strained and there is an air of controlled threat in the little video game arcade.  
  
I blurt out my dreams. "I- -uh- -I wanted to- -uh- -become a cellist- -a musician- -go to college too- -"  
  
She laughs. "Silly girl. Once you're married you'll be doing all the housework- -no time for stupid things like music."  
  
Outrage overwhelms fear and shock for a moment. "I said I wasn't going to marry your son, Mrs. Wearvolphe!! I said I was going to college! And, here's a hot news flash- -no one tells me what to do!! Especially who I'm going to marry!!!"  
  
I shrink back as she glares and Ataru wilts before my eyes. Seriously. He seemed to die, those massive brown eyes going glittery and sad. Tears shine at the tips of those long eyelashes. Hah!! He really was wearing mascara. It's dripping down his cheeks with the tears. Poor boy. Wonder if his mother made him do it?  
  
Oh, god. Not the leaking cow-eyes. Please.  
  
"And why not?" she repeats viciously. I have a sneaking suspicion that she could easily tear me to little pieces with her too-nice-to-be-real fingernails.  
  
"I- -uh- -"  
  
Millerna gasps and looks scandalized as it all sinks in. But this sort of delayed reaction from her is expected.  
  
Frantic and waving my arms like a madwoman, I try to remember the lines from this sort of romantic play as I ward them off for the time being. Let's see. . .I'm past the rambling point. . .oh, I need a magic talisman for She-Devil over here- -let's not forget that!  
  
Jeez. . .was Juliet ever in such a position? Ah, yes! That's it. . .the frightened girl proclaims her love for another. Usually, in vain, but it's worth a try.  
  
"I- -I'm- -uh- -in. . .love with someone else!!" I declare in a shaking voice, and wondering if I would throw up all over cow-eyed Ataru and his satanic mother.  
  
//UP!! NOW!! DAMMIT, YAMI!!!! GET UP!!!!!!//  
  
"Oh?" the smile of Satan is fixed on pleasant killing. Ataru gives a wet, sniffling sob and buries his face in his hands. "Who's the lucky one?"  
  
"Uh, I'm in l-l-love w-w-with-"  
  
//YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!// I send up a final, desperate wail.  
  
//I was FUCKING SLEEPING, you-// he screeches, coloring his speech quite prettily with adjectives as he appears in solid phase, ready to kill me.  
  
"Uh- -wi-with h-h-h-him!!!!"  
  
Hoping he won't kill me later, I yank my Yami closer to me, and smash my mouth onto his.  
  
^_^ Great ending!! Wonder what's gonna happen? God-it's late. That would be why this chapter wasn't so great. ^_^ Now. . .the real question is, should Dilly freeze, run, scream, or kiss her back? ^_^ Hmmm? Thanks again to everyone who's read this attempt at humor! 


End file.
